Paradise Lost

Aggie sat in her favourite armchair, sipping a cup of tea that had just been boiled. She gazed out the window, watching the world go by on another ordinary day. Her apartment was her tiny paradise, filled with her most profound treasures, favourite trinkets, and secret memories.

Her paradise contained the postcard that Harry had bought her on their first trip together in the corner of the room. He had seen it in a little tourist shop and bought it for her for the silly joke on the front. The picture was of two hand-drawn seagulls, with one eyeing up the fish in the other one's mouth, and the comic read, "I only have eyes for you." Aggie had really laughed at the sight of it, and she had fallen in love with Harry at that very moment. Silly old Harry. A few months later, she followed him down the aisle to say, "I do."

Aggie had preserved everything of Harry's as if he would return any day. His trousers still hung neatly pressed in his wardrobe, and his shirts were freshly ironed, folded and ordered in his drawers, a silent testament to his absence. His ties lay in circles at the bottom of his cupboard, and his socks were all paired, as Aggie couldn't bear the thought of his feet getting cold. To keep hold of his smile, his teeth still sat in his cup to greet her every morning, and his music collection, which he had gathered over the years, sat at the base of the television, gathering dust. She didn't listen to those silly old things anymore. Her feet didn't dance without his beneath them to carry her, so now the vinyl’s quietly played their songs to the broken record player they lay against. All his old love letters and promise notes were in the box next to them. Aggie had labelled and numbered every single one. All six hundred and twenty-three of them were placed in order from the first to the last. In his last letter, which lay on top, he wrote, "Aggie, my little magpie, I know I must leave you, but know that until you can fly to me, my angel. I will only have eyes for you".  How she had cried on reading those words. Silly old Harry.

The first ribbon little Harriet had ever won from dancing was under Harry's postcard. She went on to win many more, but Aggie kept them all as a symbol of their shared pride. This was a royal blue that always reminded her of Harriet's joy. They were all so proud of her that day that she didn't stop talking about it for weeks.

Freddie's family picture was underneath that, a testament to their happy times. She could still see the faded green in the corner. Most of the picture was green, as Freddie loves grass. Half a picture he drew would have to be of grass. Now Freddie is a gardener and looks after the grounds of a nearby museum.

On top of that sat a well-used and stained teacup. It belonged to Aunt Bessy and was the last item ever touching her lips. To Aggie, the best part about the teacup was that she could still see Aunt Bessy sitting in her rocking chair, sipping away her lukewarm cup of tea and telling her the day's events. Aunt Bessy doesn’t come to visit anymore. She hasn’t in a very long time now, Aggie can tell by the dust that’s collected on her cup. It mustn’t be cleaned though. No one else can use it. This is Aunt Bessy’s cup, ready for when Bessy comes back.

Next to these items were Aggie's magazine collections, which were her most valuable treasures. Every day, Aggie would sit and read the stories, cutting out her favourite pictures of flowers, clothes, people, or things to stick in her scrapbooks. She would make her own pictures to escape in. In her pictures she could be anything she liked: a gardener, fashion designer, a traveller. Her pictures gave her an escape. Her boxes of the latest creations adored the floor, making a collage of distant memories. Damp and dusty newspapers accumulated over several years among the numerous boxes that filled the room. The papers were layered on the floor, and Aggie had almost forgotten what the carpet looked like. However, she felt it didn't matter as the papers were soft and comfortable to walk on. She couldn't bear to throw away such important memories and documents, including bills, statements, and letters. She believed that the floor was a safe place to store them all. Somewhere, they couldn't fall or get knocked off like they could from a counter, plus she would always know where to find them. The countertops were decorated with her things anyway. She had a purple and blue glass item that made the light dance and a green frog that sat on a lily pad and smiled at the Chinese dog. Three plastic deer were surrounded by tiny, little resin houses and decorated plates and spoons from every region.

Clay houses were stacked on pots and pans, with a watering can hidden underneath. Old Snowy's collar and the rusty old leads from Goldie, Spot, and Rocky could be seen somewhere around. Harriet's first baby tooth, lock of hair, and nail clipping were also buried there. Aggie was sure Freddie's collection was nearby, too. The TV no longer worked, so Aggie used it as storage for her clothing collection, which was very helpful as she didn't have to bend down to grab a jumper. But these days, she didn't need much clothing, as a nightie and dressing gown would suffice. Aggie had jars within jars and boxes storing boxes, as containers were always valuable for holding and storing things, and Aggie would keep everything. Lids were also helpful, and Aggie had a vast collection of them. Plastic bags were always beneficial, and inside her cupboard, she had hundreds of every size, colour, and thickness you could imagine. If you opened the doors just right, they would shower you like confetti. If you needed a brush, sponge, flannel, or towel, Aggie had them all new and never used. Everything had its own place and filled up its own space. Do you need a spoon? Aggie had quite a few in every size and colour. The drawers had no space, but it didn't matter if they fell out; they would clatter, and Aggie would curse. Strings of different thicknesses, lengths, and textures were all around the place, and from them, various wires and cables were hung to save floor space.

Aggie knew that nails and screws were always helpful to have around, so she always made sure they had their own unique space. There it all was, stored in that room. Aggie's paradise made her smile as she observed the tiny dust particles dancing in the beams of light shining through the window.

Today, Aggie's attention was caught by the sight of old Mr. Bellows, who scurried past the window with his little terrier, Bobby. Bobby was yapping in annoyance at being pulled past yet another attractive driveway to mark his place. Mr. Bellows peered in and greeted her with a nod. He then pulled on the lead and expressed frustration with his furry companion. Aggie smiled as he shouted at his furry friend. Not long after, Mrs Johnson raced down the street on her way to visit Audrey at the end of the road. She had armfuls of their weekly shopping and both would surely be busy for the rest of the afternoon sorting all that out. Aggie wondered when her delivery would be arriving.  She looked forward to her daily drop off, mixed vegetables and meat. The mashed-up tray was a treat and should be arriving shortly. Allan the postal worker was next to arrive and right on time. It warmed Aggie’s heart to hear the familiar thump as the latest bills, notes, letters and paperwork made it’s way through the letterbox and onto her floor. “I’ll deal with those later,” Aggie thought as she continued to sip at her tea. The school rush was all but next and Aggie’s room filled with tiny screams and shouts as desperate mother’s and fathers completed the daily race to get them to school on time. The street was a bustle with life. Engine’s roared and horns beeped. There were “I love you mums!” and “See you later Dad.” As each new soul began their adventure of learning setting them on their course for the rest of their lives. Aggie’s eyes started to fail as the heat of the suns rays and the sonnet being played by the company outside became all too much, she allowed herself to doze in the morning light.

It was a couple of hours later when Aggie’s eyes opened. Her food delivery was late, and she didn’t like that. She looked at the door, no notice, no news. No new piles. Where could that be? Surely, they would not have forgotten to have delivered to her. She would have something to say about that when it did arrive but for now a warm cup of tea would suffice. The kettle vibrated and shook as it brought the cold water to life.  She watched and tapped at the side as the bubbles raced to the surface. She rattled the cupboards for her tea bags and found them among the cups, plates and saucers. She opened her fridge for the milk. The container looked a little fat. She gave it a shake and chuckled. “Looks like it will be one lump or two with my tea”. The kettle whistled it’s bursting tune. “Ok, ok I’m coming Mr Kettle. Hold your tune.” Aggie put the bag in her stained cup, poured in her lumpy milk and tipped in the water. She took a sip. It was a little “richer” than normal but still good. The milk would suffice for another day.

She looked at her door. Still nothing. Where was her delivery? She looked at the clock. It was still nine. That was ok. Still time she supposed. She made her way back over to her chair. She lifted her latest picture from it and let it drop to the floor. Her latest picture had become part of a patchwork quilt of carpet designs. She glanced down at it staring and imagined herself in the empty field touching the grass and watching the clouds in the sky. Aggie drifted away with the clouds. It was a couple of hours later that she awoke. She could tell by the newly formed skin decorating the surface of her tea. She took a sip. It was still good. She glanced at the door and back to the clock. It was still nine, still early. There was still time, but she wasn’t happy he was late.

Mr Bellows was on his way back home with Bobby. Bobby appeared calmer now. It was a very short walk they had been on today. Aggie didn’t think she was going to see them until a lot later on that day. They didn’t normally come home until early afternoon. She looked at her clock and then at the door, still nothing, however it was still only nine, there was still time. Mr. Bellows peered in and greeted her with a nod. She smiled and waved back. Aggie wondered what she would have for dinner today. Perhaps a nice stew would do; vegetables and meat. Yes, that would be rather lovely. She was looking forward to it. She looked to the door and back to the clock. Nine o clock, yes, there would be plenty of time.

To Aggie’s surprise her doorbell rang. The sound made her jump. She wasn’t expecting Harold back from work so soon. It was nine o clock. He still had time. The chime of the bell went again accompanied by a small voice, “Hello, Good morning, Mrs Squirrel? Are you there?” Aggie was taken aback by the question. It wasn’t her Harold at the door. She looked at the clock, he still had time. It was only nine. The doorbell chimed again, “Hello,  Mrs Squirrel? Are you there? It’s Deirdre. I believe you were expecting me today. We have sent you lots of letters to remind you. I called a couple of days ago Mrs Squirrel. To say I was coming? We have a room organised for you with us.”

“Oh yes, I’m coming,” Aggie called back. She got up out of her chair and made her way slowly to the door. The clock on the wall said nine o clock. She had plenty of time. Aggie carefully opened the door and stared at the poshly dressed woman standing in the doorway. “Hello, I’m Aggie.”

“Hello Aggie, my name is Deirdre. I have come to help you today. You haven’t been dealing so well. We are here to help you with things.”

“Oh, I see,” Aggie replied. “Well, I am doing just fine. I have my tea and it is only nine o clock so there is plenty of time today. Harold will be home in plenty of time.”

Deirdre gazed around at Aggie’s treasure trove. It was truly a sight to behold. Bit of a lost paradise. She beheld the patchwork array that adored the floor she couldn’t see the carpet anymore. Spied the many items that dressed the countertops. Shards of purple and blue glass made it a navigational circus for delicate fingers. A tired green frog had abandoned it’s lily pad and a dirty Chinese dog from a kiddies meal deal lay on its side looking neglected and uncared for. Three plastic deer were surrounded by broken sections of what looked like they had once been tiny, little resin houses and decorated paper plates and plastic spoons drawn on by children. She looked at the TV made dressing table that executed it’s purpose no longer. She spied the abandoned teacup that was dirty and stained. She was pained at the dust that gathered in the sunlight. She ducked passed the strings of different thicknesses, lengths, and textures strewn precariously all around the place, got concerned at wires and cables hitting her in the face. Worried about the nails and screws sticking out of place each stabbed in a very unique space. Dirty jars wedged in more jars and filled litter boxes with more boxes dangerously hiding their contents. Aggie had indeed kept everything. Lids with no purpose and no containers to fit them. Plastic bag cupboards hoarding most things in sight. There were new brushes, and unused sponges and flannels that had never been touched. The bathroom’s purpose was clearly not being used. The air had it’s own special bouquet that made Deidre squirm. She looked around and made her notes for her records. She sighed, “Aggie, Mrs Squirrel, please come with me. It’s time.”

“It’s time,” Aggie replied looking around the room and at her clock.

“Yes Aggie it is time. I want you to come with me now.”

“Oh yes, I suppose.” Aggie looked at the clock on the wall again, “it is only nine, there is still plenty of time. I must get my coat. I am sure that my Harold will be fine.”

Concern etched across her face, Deidre removed Mrs Squirrel from her place of paradise. “Please come with me Aggie. We will take you to a better place that is clean, clutter free and a much safer space. You will be cared for and looked after with everything you could possibly want. You will no longer be alone. Now that will be much better for you won’t it.”

“Oh, I suppose, so, I think, I think so. I mean. I am happy here and Harry will be home soon.”

The same look of concern crosses Deidre’s face. “Please Mrs Squirrel. I think it is best for you if you come with me today so we can look after you properly.”

“Oh,” Aggie replies, “Ok then, if you insist. It will only be for a little while just until Harry gets home. There is plenty of time. I will come back home soon.”

Aggie now sits in her new armchair in her new, clean place. She sits there quietly watching the world go by and staring into space. The carers see to it that all her needs are taken care of. She has food prepared and brought to her, cups of tea made and provided. She is washed and cleaned, and her hair now brushed. Aggie has new clothes and is changed every day. But as much as they try Aggie still sits in her chair alone and waits. She stares at the clock on the wall. Time moves, she sits, she waits. She watches the clock on the wall, “it is only nine. There is still time. I think I need to go somewhere. I am meeting someone. There is still time. It is only nine. I am meeting them at my Paradise place.”